


Third Time Lucky

by majorhtom



Series: Lean on Me [5]
Category: Mystery Science Theater 3000
Genre: Gen, Human cloning is a bad idea, Implied Violence, One Shot, Oneshot, Really don’t know how to tag this, but its implied - Freeform, i guess, i guess just read it, theres no violence or anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-18 14:12:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17582414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majorhtom/pseuds/majorhtom
Summary: Ardy’s spent his entire life at Gizmonic Institute without an identity. He was found there, he was raised there, he studied there and he took a job there. He has his secrets, but they’re mostly other peoples’. He knows nothing about where he’s come from, only who he is now. So what’s a person with a masters degree, but without a proper name or a date of birth to do? Become a mad scientist of course!





	Third Time Lucky

“As if we didn’t have _enough_ to deal with with that Forrester and Erhardt disaster.” 

“Honestly, I think this is part of it.” 

“You’re probably not wrong.” 

Three scientists wearing Gizmonic Institute lab coats were standing over a small, crying baby wearing nothing but a diaper. 

“Do you know whose baby this is?” 

“Isn’t it Forrester’s?” 

“Forrester’s girl isn’t a baby, she’d be almost ten.” 

“Well, it’s in his lab.” 

“Maybe he was just experimenting on it.” 

“Who the _hell_ experiments on an innocent baby?!”

“The kind of people who’d chloroform a janitor to send him into space.” 

The third Gizmocrat had wandered away from the other two and was examining a stack of papers on a nearby desk. “Guys. You should come and look at this...”

Both Gizmocrats walked over to the third, with one stopping to pick up the baby. 

“What is it, Edwards?” 

Edwards, picked up the sheet of paper she’d been reading and handed it to the other scientists. 

“Oh my god.” 

“What is it?” The Gizmocrat carrying the baby asked. He caught sight of the paper and gasped. “Holy shit. What do we do?” 

“We call CPS.” 

“Are you reading the same thing I am? We can’t do that, Sullivan.”

“So... what do we do then?”

* * *

“ _A, B, C, D, E, F, G_...” Edwards sang. 

In front of her, a toddler sat, playing with his shoe. He pulled his laces open and then started crying. 

“Oh, Ardy.” Edwards knelt down and tied his shoe. 

She couldn’t deny that there was something... _off_ about the child. Nobody like Ardy had ever existed before, at least to her knowledge, but she still had her suspicions as to why he behaved the way he did. Even though it had been a year and a half since she’d found him, he still acted like he was six or seven months old. 

“Come on.” She said, picking the boy up. She walked out of the room, carrying him, and down the halls of Gizmonic Institute. 

“Hey, Ardy!”

“Little man!” 

“Yo, Li’l Bro!” 

Since being found in the biology labs, Ardy had become somewhat of a mascot of Gizmonic Institute and everyone knew who he was. The comments from the passing Gizmocrats were enough to make little Ardy smile and giggle. 

“You go, little Ardy!” 

“Thak oo!” 

“Wait, what?” Edwards looked down at Ardy in her arms. She’d never heard him speak before. She didn’t even know if he could-but now she knew he could.

Ardy looked up at her too. He reached up and pulled her hair as hard as he could and giggled. 

Though Ardy still had a tight grip on her ponytail, Edwards carried on walking down the hall until she got to her colleague’s office. She shuffled Ardy’s position in her arms and knocked on the door.

“Come in.” 

Edwards carefully opened the door and walked in. “Oliver. I got to get home to my actual family. Someone has to watch Ardy and you said you would.” 

“I didn’t say I’d watch him.” Oliver said. 

Edwards carefully set Ardy down in a nearby chair. “Yes you did.” 

“I said I’d _study_ him-“

“Just don’t poke any needles in him.” Edwards said. “Or stick anything on him or give him any CAT scans. We already know he’s way behind on his development.”

“But as a psychologist, I find it fascinating.” Oliver said. “Here we have this one of a kind child and I’m presented with a chance to study him, of _course_ I’m going to give him a CAT scan.”

“But I’m asking you _not_ to.” Edwards said,

“We don’t know how long he will live for.” Oliver said. “The biologists don’t know. The chemists don’t know. The bioengineers don’t know. _Nobody_ knows. There’s not been anything like this little boy ever before.”

“He’s still a _child_!” Edwards argued. “He has rights too, you know.” 

“Or does he? Is he even considered to be a _human_?” 

“If he isn’t a human, then what is he?” 

“An abomination.” Oliver said coldly. 

“You don’t mean that.” Edwards said. 

“He clearly _shouldn’t_ be alive.”

“It’s not his fault though, he didn’t ask to be _made_.” 

The two scientists stood in the centre of the room, staring at each other, neither of them saying a word. 

* * *

Ardy skipped through the halls of Gizmonic Institute, wearing his novelty hamburger backpack. He was on his way to the computer lab. Gizmonic Institute had recently got newer, state of the art computers without the huge blocky monitors, and he was looking forward to seeing them because after all, seeing was believing. 

It was becoming increasingly evident to everyone at Gizmonics just who Ardy was starting to look like, but thankfully Ardy himself remained oblivious. 

He stopped off in the cafeteria on his way and excitedly bounced on his toes when it was his turn to order. “Hi, Sarah!” He waved enthusiastically. 

“Hey, Ardy.” Sarah the cafeteria worker greeted him with a smile.

“I want-I want-I want _food_ please.” He said. 

Sarah chuckled. “What kind of food?”

“I don’t know.” Ardy said. “I just know that I’m hungry, so I need food, please.” 

“Well, I can give you today’s special if you want.” Sarah offered.

“What is it?” Ardy asked. 

“For you? I can do a cheese pizza.” Sarah said. 

“Pizza! Pizza!” Ardy cheered. “I love pizza!”

“I know you do.” 

“I love cheeseburgers too.” 

“I can see your backpack.” 

“You know-you know who got it for me?” Ardy asked. “It was Professor Khan. He got it yesterday to celebrate the day I was found. That means I’m _ten_ years old now.” 

“You’re ten, wow.” Sarah cut the pizza and put it on a plate. 

“I don’t know when I _actually_ turned ten. But I know I _am_ ten. It’s so cool to have a age that’s more than one number, like-like-like I got two numbers in my age now. One. And zero.”

Sarah chuckled as she handed Ardy the plate. “Those are _digits_.” 

“Digits! Yeah!” Ardy shouted. 

Another woman walked over to Sarah. “Sarah, I need you to sort out the mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow.” 

“Hey, Dawn!” Ardy greeted cheerfully. 

“Hey, Ardy.” Dawn greeted. 

“I’m ten now.” Ardy said proudly. 

“Oh you are?” Dawn asked. “Then that pizza is on the house.” 

“Yay! Thanks, Dawn!” Ardy ran off happily to eat his food. He selected an empty table in the faculty area and set his plate down before removing his hamburger backpack and putting it on the empty space on the bench next to him.

At the table behind him, a group of Gizmocrats were giving their invention exchanges. Afterwards, they began gossiping among themselves.

“So you’re never going to believe this. I heard from Dick and Joe that the astrophysics department was raided last night.” 

“Really? That’s the sixth time in the last month.” 

“The engineering department’s also been raided a few times this past month too.” 

“Isn’t this place supposed to have top security and all that?” 

“It’s an employee, Ken, I’m telling you.” 

“ _I’ve_ heard it’s Joel Robinson.” 

“That guy who went missing ten years ago? _No_ _way_ it’s him.” 

“He didn’t go missing, he was kidnapped and sent into space.” 

“For god’s sake, Amy, don’t tell me you believe that story.” 

“If it’s not true, Craig, then explain Mystery Science Theater 3000.” 

It was at that point that Ardy turned around. “What’s Mystery Science Theater 3000?” He asked. 

“It’s nothing, Ardy, just a TV show.” Ken said.

“What’s a TV show?” Ardy asked. 

The four Gizmocrats looked at each other, like they couldn’t believe Ardy was being serious.

“Do you _really_ not know?” Amy asked.

Ardy shook his head. 

“What do you do for fun then?” 

“Math problems. Computer coding. Science experiments. And reading about science.” Ardy said. “Oh and homework.”

“Wow. That actually makes me sad.” Craig said. 

“Why?” Ardy asked. “I like it! And I have to do homework. I’m in high school now, you know.” 

“Well, if _you’re_ happy.” The fourth Gizmocrat, Mary, said and patted him on the shoulder.

“Hold on, did you just say you were in high school?” Ken asked. 

Ardy nodded. “Uh huh.” 

“But you’re nine.” Ken pointed out. 

“No, I’m _ten_.” Ardy said. “I know it because yesterday was the anniversary of the day I got found.” 

“Wow. Has it really been ten years?” Amy asked. 

“Must have been.” Craig said. “I was there, I should remember.” 

“When were you guys found, then?” Ardy asked cheerfully. “You know, so I can celebrate _your_ anniversaries too.” 

The Gizmocrats all looked at each other, neither of them knowing what to say. 

“Um...” 

“Well, you see... uh, we don’t have anniversaries.” Mary said. “I mean, I celebrate the day I married my husband. But that’s the only anniversary I celebrate. I don’t have a day where I was found and neither does anyone else here.” 

“Oh.” Ardy said, emotionlessly. 

“Yeah, we have birthdays.” Ken said. “To celebrate the day we were born.” 

“When was I born then?” Ardy asked. 

“Ooh.” Craig gave Ardy a look of pity. “You... you weren’t.” 

“I wasn’t?” Ardy cocked his head slightly. “Why?” 

“I’ll tell you another day, Ardy.” Craig said. 

With that, the Gizmocrats all stood up to leave.

* * *

Ardy walked to the dean’s office as the tinny sounds of U2’s Beautiful Day filled the halls. He stopped right outside it and put his hand on the door knob, but pulled away when he heard talking and that talking mentioned him. 

“ _You know Ardy’s bored. And if he’s bored, he’s gonna go looking in drawers.”_

_“This concerns me, how?”_

_“You need to let him study here. Let him study, he’s got essays on his mind. If he doesn’t study, then he’s going to get bored, look through things and find out who he really is.”_

_“Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”_

_“It would be a very bad thing! He’s only thirteen. I don’t think he’s ready for that kind of information just yet.” _

_“Come on, Nancy, you can’t keep it from him forever.”_

_“He’s got no parents, so who’s he going to turn to when his life gets turned upside down-_ “

Ardy chose that point to knock on the door. 

“ _Come in!_ ” 

Ardy opened the door and walked in. “Er, hello Professor Edwards. Dr Masters. Dean Parker.” He greeted awkwardly. 

“Hello, Ardy.” Dean Parker greeted. The dean was sitting behind his desk and he looked as ancient as Ardy did young. “What brings you here?” 

“Erm, well, as you know, I graduated with a high school diploma last year and got only the highest grades.” Ardy began. “So... I’d like to study further. I’d like to be put on a degree program. Please.” 

The dean bit his lip as he considered it. “What were you thinking of studying?” 

“Oh um... biology, I guess.” Ardy said. “Or maybe chemistry. I find them both very interesting.” 

“Okay.” The dean nodded. “Very well. By the end of next week, I want you to write me an essay of two thousand words on any subject of your choice within the fields of biology or chemistry. If I find it satisfactory, you will be able to enrol in our undergraduate biochemistry program starting in January. If not... you’ll just have to wait a bit longer.” 

“Uh, thank you! Thank you, Dean Parker. I-I’ll get on that right away.” 

“If you _do_ join the undergraduate program, I do not expect you to behave like a child. You will behave like every other student and faculty member here. That includes putting out groundbreaking research and participation in invention exchanges. Do I make myself clear?”

“I... thought invention exchanges were just a sort of... hello, but with... _stuff_?” Ardy said. 

“They are. But they’re also a traditional greeting here at Gizmonic Institute. And I wouldn’t like to lose that tradition.” 

“Yes, Sir. Understood, Sir.” Ardy bowed slightly. 

“Ardy,” Edwards put her hand on Ardy’s shoulder. “I should never have put this idea in your head-you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I... I want to.” Ardy said. 

“Let him do it, Nancy.” Dr Masters said. “Let him find out the hard way that life isn’t what he thinks it is.” 

“If you want to, then... I believe you can do it.” Edwards said. 

“Thanks. I _know_ I can.”  Ardy said confidently. He turned back to the dean. “Thank you again for this chance, Dean Parker.” He bowed, before realising he didn’t have to, and dashed out of the room, if only to do more eavesdropping. 

“ _You’re not really going to let him in, are you_?” Masters asked. “ _He’s a developmentally delayed prepubescent teenager, who acts like he’s a nine or ten year old._ ”

“ _As long as he proves himself academically capable, then yes, I will allow him to study._ ” The dean said.

“ _You don’t think he’ll turn out like Clayton Forrester and Larry Erhardt If you do let him study, do you?_” Edwards asked.

“ _Is that what you’re so worried about, Edwards_?” The dean asked. “ _I’m not concerned about that at all. I have a feeling he’ll turn out to be more like Joel Robinson. And Robinson was a damn fine inventor, considering he was simply a janitor._”

“ _But do you think Ardy’s Gizmonic Institute material_?” Edwards asked. 

“ _I think he’s a natural born Gizmocrat. With some moulding at this young age, he could very well become the finest Gizmocrat that Gizmonic Institute has ever seen_.” 

Someone started moving across the floor and the footsteps startled Ardy away. He ran as quickly and as quietly as he possibly could down the hall, careful not to bump into anyone on his way.

* * *

Ardy backed away from his computer. Although he really enjoyed studying biochemistry, his masters thesis was really bringing him down. Quitting wasn’t an option either. He’d been at Gizmonic Institute for... pretty much his entire life. He was found there, he was raised there, he’d done all his learning there. 

He minimised his open tabs and opened YouTube. He needed something feel-good, so put on the new Rihanna song that was in his head, Shut Up and Drive. As the song started playing, he took that chance to flop down onto his bed and sing along to the chorus. 

“ _Get you where you wanna go, if you know what I mean_...”

He chuckled and ran a hand through his messy hair. That feeling wasn’t to last, however, as a knock on the door startled him from his fun. 

“Yeah, gimme a sec!” Ardy shouted. He scrambled to close the YouTube tabs and open the academic tabs. After doing that, he opened the door to his dorm. 

“Were you just singing Rihanna?” 

“Oh. Hey, Dewey.” Ardy greeted. “Thought you were the RA.” 

Because Ardy had spent his entire existence at Gizmonic Institute, everyone knew him. He never got off easily with anything, like he was only supposed to focus on science and nothing else. Not only that, but nobody would tell him where he came from, although everyone there seemed to know, like it was some big secret. 

“Invention Exchange?” 

“Sure.” Ardy said. “I’ll go first.” He reached for a tissue in his room and held it up. 

“It’s... it’s a Kleenex, Ardy.” 

Ardy shrugged. 

“If I was the RA, you’d be punished for pulling that one.” Dewey said. “Well, my invention is-“

“Not now.” Ardy begged. 

“But it’s a good one.” Dewey promised. 

“I’m swamped with my thesis right now, Dewey.” Ardy said. “You know they won’t let me slack off here.”

“I thought you were listening to Rihanna.” 

“At least give me the illusion that I’m working on my thesis.” 

“Fine. I’ll see you around.” Dewey walked away and Ardy closed his door behind him. 

Ardy moved to his desk and out of one of the compartments, took out his iPod. After three years, it was a bit messed up, it had stickers from Disney’s Incredibles at the back and the screen was cracked, but it still worked. It was, in fact, the first thing that he’d bought with his Gizmonic wages, back when he was sixteen. Or maybe he was seventeen. He didn’t know exactly when he was born, only when he was found and that was when he celebrated his birthday. ‘Celebrated’ in the loosest sense of the word. 

He put his hoodie on, put his earphones in, chose his song (Mika’s Grace Kelly) before walking out of his dorm, leaving his masters thesis behind. 

As Ardy walked through the halls, he was stared at and he knew why. He knew _exactly_ why. Nepotism. He’d been raised at Gizmonic, so he had a fast track through the programs. Everyone else had to work their asses off to get there. But that’s not to say he didn’t have friends. He did. But they weren’t really his friends, not when they could drink and he was barely legal. Or maybe he was twenty. He didn’t know. He _wanted_ to know. But nobody else knew so he’d resigned himself to never knowing. 

He walked outside and took a deep breath. He knew the whole campus and surrounding areas very well and he knew places that nobody else either knew about or went near. He put his hands in his pockets and walked to, and inside, the main campus. One of his preferred hidey-holes was there.

However, as soon as he walked in, he was greeted by Martha Masters.

“Afternoon, Ardy.”

Ardy pulled his earphones out and heard just how loud he’d been listening to the music. “Erm, afternoon, Dr Masters.” 

“What brings you here?” 

“I was going to the library. I need a book for my, uh, thesis.” Ardy lied. 

“You aren’t going down to that storage _facility again_ , are you?” 

Ardy looked at Martha. “No.” He said unconvincingly. 

“I know you want to know more about where you came from-“

“I don’t care.” Ardy said. 

“I know that’s not true.” Martha said. 

“I’m just going for a book.” Ardy sulked. 

Martha raised an eyebrow. “Fine. I’ll take your word for it.” 

Ardy put his earphones back in and put his hands in his hoodie pouch. He took one hand out and took his iPod from his jeans pocket to change the song to Sara Bareilles’ Love Song. He put the iPod pack in his pocket and slid his hand back into his pouch. He glanced back at Martha Masters before walking away. 

She didn’t trust him. He knew that. But he also knew that she didn’t know about a secret way down there that he knew about. He didn’t know what she was so worked up about anyway, it was only a storage facility. 

Ardy made his way to the biology labs, where there was an abandoned elevator shaft. A service elevator that nobody’d bothered repairing for over ten years. He’d heard the stories about it. Some employees here went crazy almost twenty years ago, chloroformed a guy and sent him up into space to torture him. Then when Gizmonic Institute found out, the scientists went deep underground. The guy eventually escaped space, so the mad scientists knocked a temp unconscious and sent him into space too. 

Whether those stores were true, Ardy couldn’t say for sure. They were probably just Gizmonic Institute legends to explain why nobody could be bothered fixing the elevator shaft. He’d also heard that down there was deeply radioactive and highly dangerous, so that was far more likely a reason that nobody would go down there than any Gizmocrats losing their marbles and kidnapping people for fun.

Ardy looked down both sides of the hall to see if anyone was coming-nobody was. He prised open the doors to the elevator shaft, despite all the warnings, and quickly slipped inside. Letting the doors shut behind him, he reached out for the cable and grabbed it tight-it was a long fall to the bottom with nowhere else to stand or hold onto. Satisfied that his iPod was safely in his jeans (the song had changed to Black Eyed Peas’ Pump It), Ardy began the long, dark climb down the elevator shaft. 

After what felt like forever (and having to cycle through some songs he didn’t want to listen to), finally, Ardy reached the bottom of the elevator shaft. Or rather, he was standing on the elevator itself. He took his iPod from his pocket and shone it around, like a torch. He quickly found the open emergency hatch and put his iPod back in his bucket before jumping down into it. He’d been the one who opened the emergency hatch, so he knew exactly that this was the floor he wanted. And just like that, he walked out of the elevator. And into Deep 13. 

* * *

Ardy emerged from there sometime later. Hours, probably. He wasn’t quite sure because in that time, his iPod had died and he wasn’t wearing a watch. He’d taken the regular way up as it was probably night time and nobody would be around anyway. How wrong he was. 

“Ardy! Oh my god, there you are!” 

“Is something wrong, Dr Edwards?” Ardy asked, trying to play as innocent as he possibly could. 

“You’ve been missing for a day. Everyone’s been looking for you.” 

“But I’ve been right here.” Ardy said. Technically he hadn’t left the campus and had been at Gizmonic Institute the whole time. Or more accurately,  _under_  it. 

“You can’t keep disappearing like this.” Edwards said sternly. 

“I didn’t disappear, I’ve been here.” 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Ardy.” 

“I’m not playing dumb, Professor.” 

“Tell me where you were and I won’t take you for disciplinary action.” 

“I was here at Gizmonic Institute.” Ardy said.

“Let me make myself clearer. Tell me  _specifically_  where you were within Gizmonic Institute and I won’t take you for disciplinary action. And you know what disciplinary action means.” 

Ardy  _did_  know what disciplinary action meant. It meant, potentially, expulsion. And with no date of birth or last name, he had no social security number. According to the US government, he didn’t exist. And because he didn’t exist, he couldn’t get a job. Gizmonics was his only chance to earn money, study and live a proper life. 

Ardy looked down at the floor. “I was in Deep 13.” He said. He looked up at Edwards. “I just want to know where I came from.” 

Edwards sighed. “You weren’t found in Deep 13.” She said. “You were found in one of the biology labs.” 

“What?” All his life, Ardy had been told he’d come from Deep 13. “You’re lying.” He said. “It’s just-you’re just saying that to stop me from going down there again. Well, you won’t-“

“Ardy, it’s dangerously radioactive down there.” Edwards said. “You’ll get radiation poisoning or cancer.”

“I don’t care!” Ardy shouted desperately. 

“I think you’d better come with me.” Edwards said.

Ardy bit his lip. He knew he was in trouble from experience, after all, this was hardy the first time he’d gone ‘missing’ like this. It happened with a surprising regular occurrence, but this was actually the first time a search party had been sent out for him. 

They walked all the way to Edwards’ lab and once they got there, Ardy stalled, not wanting to go inside. 

“Ardy.” Edwards said firmly. 

Ardy let out a breath and walked inside. 

Edwards gestured for Ardy to sit while she sat down herself. 

“Am I in trouble?” Ardy asked, taking a seat. 

“Yes. You are.” Edwards said. “But before I get to that, I wanted to talk to you about the day Dr Sullivan, Dr Hall and I found you.” 

“... okay.” Ardy nodded. 

“Well, it was Thanksgiving, 1988-“

* * *

Seven years later, Ardy had learned the hard way that despite having a masters in biochem, without a last name or a date of birth, he couldn’t get a social security number and without a social security number, he couldn’t get an actual job. And he’d tried. So he was at Gizmonic Institute working in the research department. 

He’d left Gizmonic Institute campus temporarily because he had to go and get some snacks for the Super Bowl party. As usual, the Vikings weren’t playing. But also as usual, the Patriots were. In fact, they were playing the Seahawks, who’d won the big game just the previous year, thanks to a hilarious safety. 

Ardy was walking out of the local Target, carrying bags of chips in his hands and drinking a flavoured milk when he was approached by a red haired woman he’d definitely seen before. 

“You’re from Gizmonic Institute, right?” She asked bluntly. 

Ardy lowered his milk. “Yes I am.” He said. “Is that where I know you from?” 

“Cut the crap. I know you remember me.” She said. “I remember you from when I worked there. You were that kid who started a masters at eighteen.” 

Ardy blinked. “Um, yeah. That’s me.” He said. “Who are you?” 

“I’m Dr Kinga Forrester. And I hope to be a third generation supervillain. But I-i need your help.” 

Ardy pointed to himself. “You need... _my_ help?” 

“Well, I need _someone’s_ help and since you’re so freakishly smart, it might as well be you.” Kinga grumbled.

Ardy chuckled in disbelief. “Look, I have no interest in supervillainy.” 

“Pfft. No shit. Even your _hair_ says that.” 

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Ardy asked. 

“It looks stupid.” Kinga said, pulling at Ardy’s shoulder length light brown hair. 

“Ow!” Ardy complained. “Look, I get you’re evil and all that, but I really just wanna get back on campus so I can sort these snacks out for the Super Bowl.” 

“You say you’re not interested in evil and yet you’re watching the Patriots in the Super Bowl!” Kinga said.

“I didn’t say I was _rooting_ for them.” Ardy pointed out. “Look, it was nice to meet you, Dr Forrester, but-“

“Oh please. Just call me Kinga.” She waved her hand. “Dr Forrester is my father. Or _was_ my father.”

“Sorry to hear that, I think.” Ardy said. He had no parents, so he didn’t have that parental connection. 

“I just wish that he would have told me who my mother was.” Kinga said. 

Now _that_ was something Ardy could relate to. “Yeah, I don’t know who my mother is either.” He said. “Or my father.” 

“Oh good lord. You’re a super genius _orphan_?!” Kinga exclaimed. “Now you _have_ to join me.” 

“I don’t _have_ to join _anyone_.” Ardy said.

“You... you have some secrets, don’t you?” Kinga asked. 

“No.” Ardy said. “No secrets. Just things I don’t want to tell you.” 

“Like your name?” Kinga asked.

“It’s Ardy.” 

“R... D? What does that stand for?”

“Nothing.”

Kinga laughed. “Now I _know_ you’re joking.”

“It’s not a joke.” Ardy said. “It’s my name.”

“R D isn’t a name, it’s initials. Or it stands for research and development.” Kinga said. 

“Yeah, personally, I think it’s better then Bunsen Burner. Or Evolution. Or Supermassive Black Hole. Or Einstein’s Theory of Relativity.” Ardy said. “Look, I was named by a Gizmocrat. What name do you want me to have?” 

“I guess Ardy’s fine.” Kinga said. “Even though it’s not _actually_ a name.”

“It is though.” Ardy said. “It’s _my_ name.”

“Agree to disagree.” Kinga said. “So. Got a last name?” 

“No.” Ardy said. “Ardy’s a mononym. Like Oprah or Shakira or Beyoncé or Cher.”

“But Oprah’s last name is Winfrey.” 

“Don’t argue with me.” Ardy said. It had been a sore point for him that he had no last name. 

“This is just... your name is _just_ Ardy?”

“Yes.” Ardy said. “Your name is _Kinga_. That’s not a name I’ve ever heard before, but you don’t see me making fun of it.” 

“I’m going to ask you one last time.” Kinga said. “Ardy. Will you help me?” 

Ardy sighed. “It depends what with.” 

“I’ve been tinkering with this new, well, I call it Kingachrome.” Kinga explained. “It’s a liquid video medium capable of delivering media-“

“Yeah, I get it.” Ardy said. 

“Anyway, it doesn’t seem to be delivering media very well. I’ve tried it out on Max more than a few times and-“

“Whoa, who’s Max?” Ardy asked. 

“He’s my sidekick, kind of.” 

“And you want me to fix your Kingachrome, right?” 

“Yes.” Kinga said. “See, my father was a scientist. And he started a famous experiment called Mystery Science Theater 3000.” 

“I hate to disappoint you, Kinga, but that’s just a TV show.”

“Oh, Ardy.” Kinga chuckled, putting her hand on Ardy’s shoulder. “Is that what they’ve been telling you at Gizmonic Institute?” 

“... yes. Because it’s the truth.” Ardy said. 

“It’s not the truth. They’ve been lying to you.” Kinga said. “My father started the experiment. He  recorded it and sent it out to TV stations for money so he could carry on his experiment. Blah blah blah test subject escaped, blah blah blah, they found a new one, blah blah blah, he was defunded, blah blah blah, star baby, blah blah blah Grandma Pearl took over, blah blah blah, destroyed the experiment, blah blah blah, Dictator for life of Qatar.” 

“I feel you cut more out than you needed to because I sure missed a lot between the ‘blahs’.” Ardy said. 

“You don’t need to know.” Kinga said. “You need to know that I’m moving to the moon and I’m reopening the experiment.” 

“The moon, moon?” Ardy asked. “Like as in the _actual_ moon?” 

“ _Yes_.” Kinga said. 

“And you want me to go with you?” Ardy asked. 

“No, I want you to fix my Kingachrome.” Kinga said. 

“Fine.” Ardy said. “But if I fix it, you’re taking me with you to the moon.” 

Kinga sighed. “Fine. You got a deal, I guess.” 

* * *

A good while after that, Ardy was happily living on the moon with Kinga. And Max. And Pearl’s idiot clone, Synthia. And he’s helped Kinga create the Skeleton Crew, supposed to be a race of atomic supermen... even if they hadn’t turned out quite right. They still functioned pretty well as a ska band And Kinga being Kinga, of course, took full credit. 

Ardy was actually surprised by how easily he’d fallen into villainy. It was far more fun to be a villain and rebel than have to do whatever the staff at Gizmonic Institute told him to do. Fuck those guys! Because at Moon 13, Ardy was finally free to explore who he was rather than being told who he couldn’t be. Even if they had enslaved a guy and were forcing him to watch bad movies. 

“So have we decided that we’re going to show him The Beast Of Hollow Mountain?” Max asked. 

“Yep.” Kinga said. 

“We sure are.” Ardy said. “All set up down on Moon 14.”

“Actually... I’m not _suuuper_ keen on that movie.” Max said. 

A scoff from Kinga and an eye roll from Ardy caused Max to shrug. 

“Look, it’s almost time for filming. Just make sure the Invention Exchange is good to go, Max.” Kinga said. “And Ardy...”

“I’m on my way down to Moon 14 now.” Ardy said, grabbing the helmet for his soon to be trademark Hazmat suit. He rushed out of the main area with the heart shaped doors, leaving behind Kinga, Max and a couple of Boneheads for menial tasks and the Bonehead ska band. 

“Max, turn the screen on.” Kinga hissed. 

“Right.” Max nodded and pressed a button. 

Together they watched their test subject interact with the robots until...

“Max.” 

“On it.” Max pressed another button, sucking their test subject down into Moon 13 via tube. 

While all that was going on, Ardy was rushing to get down to Moon 14 on time. He ran past the Mesozoic Barbecue Ranch diner and into the Kingachrome storage room. 

“Hey! Get out of here!” Ardy shouted to a couple of Boneheads who were spraying each other in the face with the fluid from The Beast Of Hollow Mountain. “Go on! Get!” 

It became painfully clear that the Boneheads weren’t moving and so Ardy picked up a spanner and hit one of the Boneheads in the face with it. 

“I said get out of here!” Ardy shouted. 

The Boneheads scattered and ran out of the room. 

Ardy put on his Hazmat suit helmet and gave everything a once over. He’d done a good job attaching the Kingachrome vat to the distribution device of his own design. That Kinga had taken credit for. But he knew he was important because without him, Kinga wouldn’t have been able to restart the experiment or send the terrible movies to torture Gizmonic Institute employees. 

“Flush them the movie!” Kinga cackled. 

“Movie in the hole!” Ardy announced as he pulled the lever, sending the terrible movie up to the newly rebuilt Satellite Of Love. 

* * *

A few days later, Ardy happened to be in the area when he heard Kinga’s screams. He ran as fast as he could over to where he heard the screams coming from. 

“Kinga, is everything alright?” Ardy asked, out of breath. 

“I was here first.” Max said. “But yeah, what he said.”

“No, Max! Everything is _not_ alright!” Kinga stamped her foot on the floor. 

“Well, what’s the matter, my queen?” Max asked. 

“I’m not the queen of anything!” Kinga screeched. “I can’t sell broadcast rights to Mystery Science Theater 3000 to anyone!” 

“Well, why not?” Ardy asked. “Are the movies too bad? Because I can tinker with the Kingachrome-“

“It’s Matt Claude Van Damme.” Kinga said. “He’s... he’s...”

“He’s what?” Max asked. 

“ _Unmarketable_!” Kinga wailed. 

“What?” 

“Nobody wants to see _him_.” Kinga said. “They want someone else! Someone peppier! Someone happier! Someone... _nerdier_! Someone who’s natural in front of Cambot! Who the hell are we going to find like that when we caught Matt on the moon?!” 

“We could... try and get another Gizmonic employee.” Ardy suggested. 

“Are you kidding me, we were lucky enough as it was to find Matt!” Kinga shouted, 

Synthia approached Kinga, almost staggering towards her and held her arms out to hug her. “There there. It’s alright my favourite child/grandchild/co-worker/mail delivery person.” She said robotically. 

“Someone get this stupid clone away from me.” Kinga said in disgust.

Synthia continued to hug Kinga. 

“I said _GET OFF ME_!” Kinga roared, sending Synthia reeling backwards. “Skeleton Crew!” She hollered. 

“Getting back to what we were talking about,” Max began, “What are you going to do with Matt?” 

“I’m gonna get rid of him.” Kinga said. 

“You can’t do that, Kinga, he’s a person-“ Ardy was cut off by Kinga.

“And this is my moon. Don’t like it, I can get rid of you too.” 

Ardy nodded. He knew when he was being threatened. “Okay.” 

* * *

True to her word, Kinga did get rid of Matt Claude Van Damme. Just how this happened, Ardy was curious. But not curious enough that he wanted to actually know. The things he was imagining were probably tamer than what Kinga had _actually_ done. 

Ardy was down in the Kingachrome storage room when Max burst in. 

“She’s done it!” He announced. 

“Done what, Max and _please_ put on a Hazmat suit of you’re going to come in here-Kingachrome is dangerously unstable.”

“She’s caught someone else! Another sucker! Another, more marketable person, she hopes.” 

“Well, good for Kinga.” Ardy said. 

“He was just flying past in a Gizmonic Institute Backjack and she nabbed the poor sucker.” Max chuckled. 

“Has he got a name, or are you just going to call him ‘sucker’?” Ardy asked. 

“Uh... Jonah Heston, apparently.” Max said. 

“This will be, what, her third attempt?” Ardy asked. 

Max shrugged. “Third time lucky.” 

“Third time lucky.” Ardy repeated. “Third time lucky.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Supplemental to my No Tears Left to Cry story, but can definitely be read separately.  
> So I wanted to offer an alternate take on Ardy and I just couldn’t get this weird idea out of my head that Ardy is a clone of Joel created by Dr Forrester and Dr Erhardt. This is his journey to find out who he is and where he came from.  
> For the most part, he looks like KTMA era Joel. Long hair and all. But without the sleepy eyes, he’s much more awake.  
> I don’t know if it’s obvious, but he’s behind a few years in his development not for any developmental disorder, but because he’s a clone.  
> I had to make some OCs up to fill the world. They won’t be reappearing. And not everyone at Gizmonic Institute likes his existence, even though it’s not his fault.  
> The cheeseburger backpack is indeed a Steven Universe reference.  
> Of course Ardy liked pop music as a teenager. Most, of not all teenagers like pop music.  
> I thought the idea of him meeting Kinga outside a Target while getting snacks for the Super Bowl-and that’s what made him a Mad-was funny.  
> I wouldn’t put it past Kinga to take credit for that, look at what she did with Synthia in Ator.  
> Ah Matt Claude Van Damme. What did Kinga do with him? Is it really that bad? Who knows. But she used to torture him in the same way she tortures Jonah.  
> Poor Matt Claude Van Damme. Poor unmarketable Matt Claude Van Damme. And what of the poor soul either before or after Matt? But at least we’re up to the point where Kinga kidnapped Jonah.  
> Even though Ardy still doesn’t know he’s a clone.


End file.
